


All My Heroes Are Dead

by fictorium



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Near Death Experiences, One Shot, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Anonymous said to fictorium:</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <b>How about "I thought you were dead" sex.</b></p><p> </p><p>And here, I have obliged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All My Heroes Are Dead

“...way too close for comfort,” Alex is saying, and Kara nods but her senses are all focused on another source. One screaming, kicking source currently being restrained by one of Hank’s strong arms. He probably didn’t mean to lift her bodily off the ground, but Kara knows just how easy it is.

“Let her go, Hank,” Kara says, wiping at the dirt on her face. She doesn’t want to think whose blood that is on her red skirt, she just knows she’ll be taking the suit off as soon as possible. Right after she calms a near-hysterical Cat.

“You... moron!” Cat unleashes as she reaches Kara. She’s reaching out for what starts as the tightest, most relieved hug that Kara’s ever been part of, only to rear back after a long minute and start pounding on Kara’s chest with her delicate but very determined fists. “Don’t... you... ever... God!”

“Can we have the room?” Kara mutters to Alex, who takes one for the team and ushers everyone out, including General Lane and Hank. Lane is still livid that a journalist has been allowed into a classified facility, but like a lot of other things that headache will wait for another time.

“I’m okay,” Kara soothes, taking Cat’s wrists and halting the blows she can barely feel anyway. “Cat, I’m here. I’m okay.”

“I saw it...” Cat finally breaks then, the rage giving way to shuddering sobs that Kara has never seen before. “You were gone,” she manages to heave the words out, a plea and an accusation. “I thought you were...”

“No, no, no,” Kara kisses her on the forehead, then on each cheek where the tears are falling fast and wet. Finally she lingers for a moment over Cat’s lips, summoning the sweetest kiss she knows how to give. That, finally, calms Cat down. She kisses back, palms now holding Kara’s face, and they put the rest of the scary thoughts and words into the kiss, which blows most of them away.

“So I can go debrief now, then I’m taking you home,” Kara tells her when they part, both slightly breathless. 

“Like hell,” Cat announces, backing Kara up against the table in the middle of what is usually a medical bay. “You made me cry. With witnesses, Kara.”

“Sorry?”

“Not even close to good enough.” This time when they kiss it’s more frantic, mouths missing as often as they meet, gasps smothered by each one as their hands roam with more intent. Cat is grabbing Kara like she has to check that every last square inch of her actually came back, and Kara is trying to soothe her own guilt by stroking Cat’s arms with careful hands. 

Cat doesn’t seem interested in careful, not by the way she reaches between Kara and the counter to squeeze her ass.

“Here?” Kara pants when she next gets a chance. “Cat, there are probably cameras-”

“Don’t. Care,” Cat tells her, pulling her silk blouse up and over her head. Kara melts a little more under the intensity of Cat’s wanting look, but there’s no mistaking the residual fear behind it. To hell with it. Kara’s doing whatever chases that fear away, and in the quiet of this room with just their harsh breathing, she can admit that this time she did think she’d pushed it just a little too far. She spent the fall back to earth thinking she’d never see this woman again, this spitfire who’s using unfair and intimate knowledge of the supersuit to find a seam and _tug_.

Okay. So they’re doing this.

Being alive means kissing Cat, and Cat pulling the cape from Kara’s shoulders. Taking those fierce, biting kisses along one side of her collarbone, before tracing back and doing the same on the other side. The marks don’t last, just a fleeting impression of a bruise and then they heal, but Cat doesn’t slow up just because Kara can take it. 

There’s a vague notion of getting up on the counter, but Kara finds herself cupping Cat’s breasts instead, squeezing hard nipples between thumb and forefinger, pinching them through the lace. The moans deep in Cat’s throat are both reward and incentive, and Kara dips her head to increase them by using lips and teeth in turn. 

“More,” Cat demands as Kara sucks first on one nipple and then the other, the bra mostly shoved down and out of the way. She pulls Kara away reluctantly, taking another deep kiss like they’re giving her the energy to carry on; maybe they are, after a day like this filled with fire and destruction.

Kara unzips Cat’s tight pencil skirt, wriggling it down over her hips because she needs more of her. Touching more, and seeing more, and god even the scent of her skin. That insanely expensive moisturizer that Kara’s still scared to touch, never mind use. It’s all mingled with gunpowder, the sterile air of the bay, and the faint, salty hint of sweat that tells their story of panic giving way to this fast and desperate need.

“I can’t…” Is all Kara can think to say. 

“I know,” Cat is the one to soothe now, but there’s nothing soothing in her expression. She’s hunger and sharp edges and everything that used to terrify Kara almost as much as it turned her on. They’re remade tonight, in this moment, as if no time has passed despite the centuries that seem to be hanging over them. “Now. Come on.”

Finesse is for another time. Kara slips her hand inside Cat’s underwear, faintly surprised she’s this wet already, from so little foreplay. Cat returns the favor, yanking Kara’s panties halfway down her thighs and cupping her center with intent. They kiss. Once, twice, and Cat’s biting down on Kara’s bottom lip as Kara slides that first finger inside. Her thumb is primed, pressing on Cat’s clit in counterpoint. The next thrust takes a second finger, and Cat’s urging her on for a third. 

Urging her on by mirroring, or pretty close to it, Kara’s own moves. They usually like to take turns first, lavish attention and tease. Cat’s never met an edge she didn’t like to keep Kara teetering on. Tonight they have no such luxury, it’s just about being as close as possible as quickly as possible. Cat can sense Kara overthinking it seems, dragging her back to the moment by dragging the nails of her free hand over the slope and curve of Kara’s breasts, flicking her right nipple with her thumb until Kara can feel the tensing deep in her abdomen.

“Don’t you dare,” Cat warns, but she’s already starting to squeeze Kara’s fingers harder. She lets up on the flicking, pressing her cheek to Kara’s collarbone. It makes the angles harder on their wrists, but Kara would endure the pain even if she felt it. She dips her head, kissing Cat’s neck and sucking on the pulse point at the base of her throat. They come almost together, Kara’s fingers a little frantic as she feels herself fall over the edge first. 

Her legs hold up, but Cat is slumping. Kara lifts her bodily then, floating them onto the relative safety of the counter. It’s cool and metal against overheated skin, and Kara hisses for a moment. Her senses are in overdrive. She’s rarely this weakened while retaining all of her power. Cat clings on, breathing hard against Kara’s shoulder.

“I hate scaring you.” Kara admits it in a whisper.

“I wish you could tell me you’ll stop.”

“I wish that too. Sometimes.”

There’s a pointed thump outside the door. Kara knows that unsubtle, pissed off sound well. Maybe the door wasn’t all the privacy they needed. She eases Cat back to standing, before fetching her spare clothes from the bag Alex brought in earlier. Cat redresses, stiff and quiet as they return to something like normal.

“They’re all going to know what we were doing,” Kara sighs as she pulls the jeans on. “And I need a shower.”

“You have a shower in your apartment, don’t you?”

“Oh.” Kara realizes she’s going home alone. Cat must be more pissed than she realizes. She tries not to tear up about it, but it feels like a rejection after this roller coaster of a night. 

“Only Carter’s home and I don’t want him to see me this frazzled,” Cat continues, knowing exactly what little shock she’s just given. “And frankly, that is not even close to everything we’re doing for the rest of the night. I don’t care about traumatizing your neighbors, but I don’t want my son needing more therapy than is strictly necessary.”

“Oh,” Kara says again, but this time she’s smiling around it. It feels like a little sunbeam tripping right off her tongue. She’s alive. Earth is safe. Cat is pleased about both of these things, and they’re going to have a lot more sex to celebrate that fact. They just need to get out of this damn bunker without anyone spoiling the mood. Kara crosses the small space and picks Cat up one-handed. Cat tucks herself in automatically, comfortable in flying positions by now.

“You don’t mind using the fire escape, do you?” Kara asks, before blasting them out through a skylight into the cool night air. “Only I really don’t want Alex rolling her eyes at me.”

“Let’s go home,” Cat whispers against her ear. “Try not to die on the way there.”


End file.
